I’m like a dog …

My body doesn’t digest chocolate, or it seems fried food like chips. A funny thing happened on the way down my digestive tract the other day. Ngaire (Felix’s godmother) spent a week with us for my last chemo session. She did night shifts with Felix, cooked lovely meals and was in all manners a gorgeous presence. Anyway, on the last night she shouted us take away fish and chips. I was no longer nauseous (it takes hold of me for a week now) and wanted something yummy. The fish was grilled, the chips were not that many.

Within half-an-hour of eating said yummy dinner my stomach starting rising and rising until it formed the shape of a semi-deflated football. I was alarmed, but also felt like vomiting and was in a bit of discomfort. Needless to say, it expelled itself in the bathroom – several times. Rise – expell – rise again. My entire meal went the way of the underground sewage system.

I put this down to the fact that chemo’s effects are accumulative and the fast growing cells in my stomach and other places don’t like fat getting in the way or quite simply cannot digest it any longer. I remember a cancer pamphlet saying as much. Now I know for sure.